Originally Posted by list

This would probably be the time I went Wild-water rafting. Funnily enough, this dumb friend of ours thought WWR would be some sailor guy paddling us around in a neat calm river where she could get content for her instagram stories. Things soon changed when we were driven to a separate facility to be trained and given a safety briefing.

Nervousness set it for me, as I can never really figure what sort of adrenaline-junkie activities I like and dislike. Rollercoasters scare me, bunjee jumping is fine for me, no clue.

Moving on, We boarded the raft and the drops down the river were denoted in levels, 1 being the shortest fall, 4s being the harshest and largest falls. I quickly started enjoying it strangely, and all the pent up anticipation of angst withered away too. At the back of my head however, I was wary of how hard the rocks beneath us were, and the current was clearly a crushing force to be reckoned with. One of the drops had me fall out of the raft, though my foot was anchored in like the safety instructor had instructed. So half my body was hanging out and even though I could've crunched my way back up with my abdominal muscles, the irregularity in movement caused by the waves and current overwhelmed me. This is when fear set in, as all the other friends on-board panicked, no one was a trained professional. Thankfully, the ride did come to an end with me hanging out for about 30 seconds, but the raft kept thrashing against the rocks. Just a singular clash against my spine could've very well left me paralyzed - permanently.

In retrospect, this was an excessively bad decision. What's interesting to note here is, apparently I was smiling, laughing and having the time of my life while I was hanging out the raft. Perhaps it was shock? Ionno, but not doing that again.